Now What?

12:47 PMHeather

I remember as a kid how let down I felt the day after Christmas. When all the presents were unwrapped.  And some toys had already broken.  Others proved to not be nearly as fun as the commercial made it looked to be.  All the anticipation and excitement was over. Like a deflated balloon.


Now what?

It so easy after some much anticipated event that held some degree of mystery to feel pretty "blah" afterward.  Like the panic I felt leaving the hospital with each baby.  Okay, now what?  Those crazy nurses were just letting me take these precious bundles home now.  As if I knew what I was doing.  And now what?  Sleepless nights and feelings of inadequacy.  The baby showers and hype were over.

Real life kicked in.

Like today.  

The day after Christmas. 

What's there to look forward to now?  For some of you, today brings relief.  The dread of a holiday without the ones you've lost. CHECK.  You survived.

But for so many, this new day dawned with a sense of disappointment.  

Now what?

What I want to tell each of you bloggy friends is nothing profound. Nothing special.  In fact, I feel a bit silly even stating it.  But yet, I cannot shake the urge to write it.  So here goes.

If you wonder now what, let me tell you.

Jesus.

Jesus is always the answer.

Jesus.  The one who came as a tiny baby.  As the fulfillment of hundreds of years of prophecy.  And the morning after that glorious birth, Mary might have asked herself the very same question.

Now what?  I have this baby.  And I'm far away from home.  And my mom  and grandmother and relative Elizabeth aren't here to help.  I'm in a stinky stable, for pete's sake.  I am sore from giving birth.  This baby is crying.  This is all new.  I'm here with my betrothed whom I don't even really know all that well.  And certainly not in the Biblical sense.

Now what?  I have this son of God.  Who looks like any other baby.  Sure, I think he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Because I'm a mom and we think that about our children.  Even when they are wrinkly and pink and squished from labor.  Now what?  

Was that angel right?  I mean, I've been certain he was.  But, this all feels far from what I anticipated.  This hasn't gone as planned. This dependent little baby is the son of God?  And I'm supposed to keep him alive and help him grow and become all that God intended?

I sang about the wonder of his coming and praised God for him.

But now what?  How does one raise a baby that SEEMS like any other who is actually God himself?    

If you awoke this morning to a feeling of disappointment that life feels just as hard and Christmas is over and now there's nothing to look forward to...now there's just life.  The overwhelming mundane of more of the same daily struggles and wrestling with the big things that burden you...now what?

I ask you to do what Mary might have done, that day after giving birth.

Look long and hard in the face of Jesus.  Consider that what you see or feel at this moment is only scratching the surface.  Of all the wonder and awe and surprises and hope and peace and joy that we can continue to unwrap and uncover day after day after day as we look toward Jesus.

Because Jesus is a gift whose truths we can never fully know. Jesus is the promise and answer that continually surpasses all comprehension.  His grace is an ocean whose width has no end, whose depth we can never plunge. His love is something that we must have the power of God himself to even begin to conceive because its height and breadth are beyond our understanding. His plans are certainly hard to wrap our heads around, particularly when the part that has been revealed and with which we are dealing feels hard and cold and cruel.

Maybe Mary felt that way, the day after that first Christmas morning.  It hadn't gone the way she had might have planned.  The stable might have felt cold and hard and cruel and uncomfortable. Perhaps as she had began to feel the babe within her, she began to daydream about a wonderful and glorious birth, with every detail exactly as perfect as she could imagine.  

Now what?  

Here's now what.  You look at the face of Jesus.  And you make a choice to believe that he is who he says he is.  You make a choice to take him at his word.  To run to him, even full of anger and questions--beating against his chest and honestly communicating your disappointment and struggles with the morning after.  Instead of running from him.

You choose like Mary.  To hold onto him.  Even though life is not as you'd expected.  Even though the anticipation and excitement have led to a long road of more of the same.  Even though the hope and joy that might have carried you through now feel like a big old let down.  A bubble burst.

Hold on to Jesus.  Dive into his word.  Hash it out in prayer.  Don't quit talking to him.  Don't look away from him.

Because Jesus is who God says he is.  In Jesus, we have the yes to all of God's promises.  In Jesus, we have the rope to hang on to -- the rope that there is so much more than what we can see.  In Jesus, we have the unseen and seemingly out of reach that puts all the struggles and worries of this world to shame.  In Jesus, though he may not look right now as you expected...though daylight brings not a sense of excitement but of dread...Jesus is the Deliverer.  

You may only see the question of now what.

Jesus brings the answer.

Himself.  Now what?  Jesus.  Trust that He is the gift that you can continually unwrap, day after glorious day of discovery and searching and asking and exploring.  

And he will blow your mind.  He may not look like you thought. Things may not be going as you'd hoped.

But the Bible promises that those who trust in Him will never be put to shame.

So turn your face from the disappointment around you.  And look to the Wonderful Counselor.  The Mighty God.  The Everlasting Father.  The Prince of Peace.  

Take him at his word.  Believe him to be The Gift from the Father who loved you so much that he was sent for you.  Jesus. The Gift with no end.  

You Might Also Like

0 comments

Popular Posts

Contact Form